GreaseBoys
by M.D. Owen
Summary: part of the TMNT Real Life jobs round-robin fiction challenge. Raphael is a part time grease monkey; talks of his brothers' careers. 2010 TMNT Awards: Honorable mention, best AU.


_This is part of a Round-Robin story, involving four other writers plus myself, and those writers will be tackling the rest of the Hamato family (plus another one from Raph, detailing his full time job). As their stories are completed, I will link theirs down at the bottom. Have fun and don't eat or drink anything while reading, hehe. - M_

_Special note: This is the censored version. It's not all that different from the uncensored. :)  
_

* * *

I arrived at GreaseBoys at 10:15am. Before you think I work at a strip club, it's an auto parts slash mechanic shop so put it back in your gutter. I like my weekend job. My brothers always have something else going on with their weekends and there's no way in hell I'm staying at my house. My roommate, Mrs. Morrison or Mrs. "M", screams at me like a mother. She can't hear or see. Well, she can hear better than she can see but not by much. Her cat, Lucy, is a cuddle-bug and I'm just not in the mood for cat butt. It stinks. My socks stink, too. Forgot to wash them again.

"Big Dawg, glad you could to come to work almost an hour late. You didn't take a bath, did you?"

That's Gary, my coworker who has a crush on Snooki, some slut on television. Or maybe it's Spooki. I don't watch television except wrestling and Golden Girls.

"I got a new cologne on." Obviously lying. "Did you go out with that chick last night? The one who came in here two weeks ago and busted her daddy's car when she ran over a tree stump and then backed over the mayor's mailbox?" Obviously trying to change the subject there.

Gary shook his head quickly, like it was about to fall off his shoulders. I guess that would be a no.

He started talking about Stooki, and I had to log into the computer system. I hate that stupid thing. It's like tap dancing with roller skates for me. Gary says I'm just a grease monkey who needs to get my brother Don to give me a crash course in computers. Donatello has quit as my personal trainer and is now a science teacher. I'm sure I heard a few explosions in the school's general direction with his name all over the damn thing.

Instead of complaining about this computer I'm trying slap around, I'm sure you want to know what my brothers ARE doing these days. Let's start with me. Yeah I know you want to know about Leonardo but he ain't going first. I am. Well, I'm a part time grease monkey, and two days out of the week plus some holidays, you can find me at GreaseBoys on 1421 Broadway, still in the Trashcan Capital of the World. We're also down the street from that "other" auto parts place. We're the better ones. GreaseBoys has me. Come see me and I'll get your ride going smooth. It'll purr like Lucy.

Leonardo is some fancy schmacy lawyer, and I heard he has some ladies in the office that like him. Always the mack daddy and never knowing it. That makes me chuckle: the never knowing part, not the mack daddy one. Hey, I have some chicks that dig me too, but GreaseBoys doesn't exactly attract the best of the best. Oh, and I heard that stupid broad Gentry works for him. I can't even be in the same room with her. She came here the other day and asked me to fix her car AND then she didn't have the money to pay for it. I told her to go get Leo's wallet. I'm not the surrogate daddy here. Her legs need to be sewn shut. Leo ought to get a gag order placed on her or something.

During the weekdays, I'm your worst nightmare. Heh. But that's another story.

Our family brainiac is a science teacher at a nearby school. I keep forgetting the school's name, and he'll tell you in his little story. Whenever he comes for an oil change, Don will tell me about the latest faculty room gossip. I didn't think he was the gossip kind, but it's kinda funny. I think he enjoys his job a lot, and though this may sound corny but Don is my bro, and I'm happy for 'im. There. Now stuff that in your kleenex.

Mikey is a terd mongler who likes to listen to himself talk WAY too much on the radio. I ain't going into details on this one. You'll learn about it, I promise ya that.

And then Splinter. Dear ol' Pop is a counselor helping out folks. I dig that. He helped me through some rough patches and encouraged us to go for our dreams, no matter how little (Leo) or big (mine).

Leo and his dry cleaning. Don and his textbooks. Mikey and his microphone. And then me with my wrench and badge. Life's cool.

But it ain't cool this morning.

"Gary, get yer cracked butt over here. I can't log in!" The computer was making beeping sounds.

Gary has this thing about pushing people but not meaning to. Unfortunately when he tries to push a brickwall like me, he just gets shoved back. Other coworkers hate him doing that, but I find it amusing.

"I got you in now. Stop being a baby."

I scratched my nose. "Go back to your Snoopy."

"SNOOKI." Gary's pedophile-lookin' mustache wrinkled. "SNOOKI, SNOOKI."

He kept shouting and I went to the break room. Coffee time before I got to a 2002 Ford Mustang convertible. Or was it a pickup truck I had to repair? I never look at the orders. I just work on whatever I feel like for the day unless Gary or Rickman shout at me for picking favorites, heh. Rickman is my boss, and he's like a breath of fresh air to me, in terms of the employment world. He hired me because I kept coming here and buying parts and then helping the guys troubleshooting problems. He asked if I needed a part time job. I didn't have anything else to do. I would train my dog, Sgt. Major, to be a robust fighting machine but it's at Leo's house because Sgt. Major turned out to be a wuss and is scared of kittens. He almost destroyed our house, and Mrs. M grounded me.

What do I feel like working on today, I wondered as coffee flowed through my veins, and I remembered back to last weekend when that Mustang GT gave me troubles.

The pickup it is.

* * *

I never take many breaks. Makes me seem like I'm indispensable.

Don't ask me why my boss and I talk about his sex life. I don't have one so I have to hear about somebody's, I guess.

I don't have a time to really clock out because auto repairs can take anywhere from five minutes to five centuries. Plus, customers like to come into the bay (they're not supposed to but rules are made to be broken, I should know and Leo would tell you that) and talk to me while my ass is sticking in the air or I'm camped under their car with oil spraying all over me. They talk about everything. I'm sure I know every person's phone number, text message, and Facebook. I just nod or say "yeah". Whatever.

There are a few select customers I really can't stand or love seeing in the shop. Let's start with someone I can't stand with a passion and I have no clue where this schmuck came from and I hope a vampire hunter suddenly needs his brakes or somethin' fixed and comes to my place.

Yes, I have a vampire who visits me. Or he says he's one.

He visits us after dark, naturally because he'll explode from the sun's rays, and he's always on the cell phone. I've never seen the guy WITHOUT the cell phone pressed to his ear. He's pale, wears black and white, and stinks worse than my socks. Stinks worse than a year's supply of my dirty socks. He has this giant mole by his nose too and I'm waiting for it to mutate one day. He's disgusting without the mole. The mole tempts me to place the guy under a junkyard compactor.

I call him the "7pm vampire". Lately it's been 6 since Daylight saving time ended.. or began or ran laps around the track, I don't care. This vampire guy coming in an hour earlier means we have to put up with him for one more hour.

"Franky!" he calls me with this irritating voice that reminds me of ten Mikeys on weed (ssssh, don't tell Splinter we have tried it..).

"Why does he call you Franky? That's nowhere near Raphael," Gary asked one day, chewing on a twizzler.

"Dracula has to have a Frankenstein," I shrugged and wiped my dirty hands on Gary's shirt. "That would make you the Wolfman."

We always seem to be the main guys on the weekends and then Rickman will hire fresh-faced punks who can't keep up with the hustle. One punk tried to start a fight with me because he and his momma used to be Purple Dragons, and he insisted that I strung both of them up by their thumbs. I couldn't remember when he told me. He was "dismissed" for stealing Reese's Peanut Butter cups from the cash registers. We sell various goods like Motor Oil Gummie Bears, the Reese's, Musketeers, and our very own brand of GreaseBoys chocolate Racing Car series. Oh, and keychains. I like those.

But when the punk Dragon left, I suddenly remembered and laughed out loud from under the hood of the mayor's car. He thought I was having a seizure attack and called 911. You can get fined for calling the emergency number for non-emergencies, but he's the mayor and can get away with murder. I was still laughing on my way home that night.

"Franky! I need you to check my battery!" Vampire shouted. "And order snowcones, Janice."

My name wasn't Janice, unless that was my new name, and I didn't know how to order snowcones. I always have to wonder who was he talking to: me or the phone.

The guy follows me around and even tried to come into the bathroom with me. Gary says I have a boyfriend and a pee buddy. Calling Gary a pedophile with his mustache usually shuts him up. Rickman had gotten the employee area locked up, and just in time too. I can imagine this guy just talking on his phone about snowcones and women's tights while I'm taking a dump.

Vampire followed me out to his car. He coughed like he was dying and said the cold weather messed with his arthritis.

"But aren't you a vampire? The god of night and immortal?"

He rubbed his nose and scratched his mole, yelped, and then declared, "But I'm not immune to weather. I get icicles on my balls."

I sincerely hope he meant ball bearings on his car or somethin' because that ain't a pretty sight. All I saw were giant moles on his testicles. Anyways, he continued blabbering on his phone.

"Cassandra, I needed that paperwork by yesterday."

I fiddled around with his battery and tested it.

"I don't know crap about history. I can't help Lizzy with her homework. Throw the book across the room."

I started, "You got a near dead battery, man. Buy a new one soon."

"My brother is from Arkansas and he runs a trailer park. I hate his guts. When he comes to holiday gatherings, I stick my tongue out at him."

The hood of his car slammed down shut and if he didn't hear me, it was his own fault. He didn't have my phone number to call me if he was stranded on the side of the road. He could call Cassandra, Lizzy, or Janice.

By the time I opened the door and Vampire was behind me rattling about Spongebob Squarepants, there was a backfire from an automobile pulling into our parking lot. Oh, dear sweet jeebus, I thought. I wish people would keep their autos running good. It just ain't right. It's like leaving Fido in the cold to die and then kicking him because he won't piss right.

A woman stepped out of that car. Now, before you feminists start witchhuntin' me, I have no problem with women drivers but you gals can't take care of a car. I'm glad I'm not your car, that's all I will say about that.

She was a short, stocky little lady and I think she was a turtle, like me. Her hazel eyes blazed into my soul as she walked up to us and Vampire guy got off his cell phone immediately. I was more astonished by him getting off the phone than seeing a pretty turtle lady in front of me.

"Hello there. I'm George."

"Do you work here, George?" she politely asked.

"No, but -"

"Then I don't need you." Oooh, buuuurrrned, I thought. So she turned to me, obviously the grease monkey of the bunch. "But I need your help. You got a moment... Mister ...Raphael?" She had to read my tag. I hate name tags. I want to tell some flirty women that my name is Michael or Jose.

"Sure. Uh, George, you did hear me say you need a new battery?"

George wasn't listening. He was following her into the store. I could only pray to High Heaven that my leash on him was finally broken.

I washed myself off in the back and patted my face. Oh man. When I looked into the mirror, I just realized I was trying to look good for this lady. But first, I needed to take another leak. The coffee runs through me like water.

George (don't think I like that name; he'll still be called Vampire from now on) was still harassing Miss Turtle. She had some authority to her posture, and she was flat out ignoring that Molely Monster. I think he said that he owned real estate.

"What's the problem with your car, miss?"

"Everything. I need a new car, but I can't afford one right now. Come take a look, please?"

Gary was bedazzled by the weirdness. Vampire was still yattering away, even when his cell phone rang. I don't know what the hell that ringtone was but it sounded like a chipmunk getting crammed into a black hole.

"Mr. Raphael," she began and by then I noticed her accent was a little different, "watch yourself. It was smoking earlier."

When I took a peek under her hood, I thought the engine was crapping on itself. It was a mess. I told her to drive or push or get some way to put the car in the bay.

"Susie, I need a lawyer. Can you recommend one?" Vampire was back on the phone, and now Miss Turtle was giving him weird looks with her big hazel eyes. It was like a Disney film in slow motion.

"Leonardo Hamato!" I screamed and exploded with laughter in my body. Let Leo deal with this kook.

Vampire dude didn't miss a beat. "Susie, look up Leonardo Hamato in the yellow pages, and order me some chicken wings."

It took a good forty-five minutes to look in that raggedy car's engine. I could tell she was getting HIGHLY annoyed by Vampire.

"Does he live here?" she whispered to me.

"Every weekend night." I almost touched the hot radiator. Damn!

She shifted and leaned in closer to me. She was wearing that Britney Spears perfume. Only reason I knew this was because Gentry wore the stuff. "He's scary. Is he really a vampire?"

"He's never sucked my blood but he did follow me into the bathroom."

"I don't want to become part of his harem. That's what he just asked me. He said my blood smelled like candy corn."

I snickered and asked her to stand back while I changed her air filter. I think it had squirrel nuts in it.

Miss Turtle left the bay and sat in the front lobby. Gary had a long line of customers and I felt bad for not helping him, but this lady looked sad and needed help. I gotta help a lady in need. I have a soft spot for 'em even though they generally wreck cars and treat them worse than a cockroach.

It was almost closing time before I could even diagnose the problem. I offered to pay for a cab to take her home but she said it wasn't necessary.

"Thanks, Mr. Raphael. My daughter is waiting for me anyways."

"I have a daughter, too!" Yeah, Vampy was still there. "About five of them."

"I'll be here tomorrow and I'll get to your car first thing in the morning." And I was planning on setting my alarm, too. When somebody needs my help, I'll be on time for anything.

"I appreciate it. Thanks and have a good night." Miss Turtle walked away and got on her cell.

Cue the creepy factor oozing from Vampy. "Dude, look up her phone number for me."

I was still too busy trying not to burn myself. "Look up her number? I can't do that, man."

"Pretty please? I'll give you a snowcone."

Like I've been waiting all of my life for a stupid snowcone. "I'm not doing it. Company policy. I ain't losing my job." Rickman WOULD fire me for doing something like that.

"And if you do that, Mr. George, you WILL need that lawyer."

She heard him! Oh, man. He wasn't pale anymore, and I think his mole migrated south.

That was ONE incident, out of the many with this Vampire. I can't wait to hear Leo talk about dealing with that guy. I need a camcorder or somethin' stashed in Leo's office when that happens.

One of my favorite regulars is a guy named Willy. He's always drunk but swears to stop drinking about every week. He had a hoopty car too, just like Miss Turtle, but he traded it for a six pack of beer. I remember one time his car battery was held up by a bunch of sticks. It's hard to impress me with ignorance since I've lived Mikey all of my life, but Willy gets honorable mention. He'll also just laugh randomly, like laugh REALLY LOUD. He scared the crap out of Vampy one time and only to have Vampy threaten to change into a bat and bite Willy's neck. I told Vampy he should avoid getting drunk that night.

Willy hangs out with a bunch of drunks at Hardee's down the street. He claims to have had sex with the young girls in the back and nearly burned his testicles on the fryer. They threaten to put him on payroll if he stayed there any longer, and Willy ain't no working man. In fact, I call him Willy Lump Lump and he kinda likes that. He asked me why I'm a giant green turtle and I told him that I ate acid as a kid and it screwed me up for life. Willy calls me a "cool lad" and said that he knew somebody like me back in World War I. I think he means World War II because Willy don't look that old. Hell, he probably means the Gulf War or somethin'. Who knows with that Lump.

Willy has had three wives and claims that the third wife was "like me". I asked him, "like me?", and he forgot what we were talking about so I never brought it back up.

He asked me if I was still a virgin and I said "hell naw. I got laid about three times back in college. Well, two and a half. The first time I was asleep and then the broad tried to say she was pregnant but she slept with about four other guys that night. When the baby was born and it wasn't green, that was the end of that."

Leo nearly skinned me over that mess but was behind me every step of the way with his legal smack. The last thing I needed was a child to support on student loans.

Willy laughed at me and said I needed more 'tang. I told him I didn't have time nor the interest at the moment. Then he laughed like a banshee and pointed his dirty, bloody finger in my face. I was afraid of getting AIDS or the pink eye.

Mikey works with me on the weekends, and by that, I mean he's on the radio fiddling-farting about stupid stuff. When we were in college, he interned on the college radio station and was fired for being too random, but his ratings were high and so by popular demand, the Mikester was back on the air. Don and Leo don't seem to mind Mikey making fun of them, but then I don't think they listen to him. The stupid mechanic bay won't pick up any OTHER signal except Mikey's radio station. Lucky me. I'm all cool with his jokes about me hating bugs and not ever getting laid now. At first, I pounded his head into the control board and they banned me from the station. Mikey told him that we were just joking around, it was all part of his show stunt, and they let me come to Thanksgiving and Christmas dinners. Those sales people know how to cook. I could almost make love to those deviled eggs.

Don visited me last weekend but proceeded to tell me how to repair a car... something I've been doing for a few good years now and didn't need his assistance, but he gets off on "spreading knowledge" so I let him do his thing.

"Why do you manhandle the wires like that?" he asked and leaned over the engine on the other side of the car. I was having a hard time with that particular vehicle and was losing my patience.

"Don, I ain't got steady, perfect little ivories like yours. Now stand back!" I scrapped the hell out of my knuckles and echoed a few curse words in the bay.

Don placed his hands in his pockets, a sign that he was a little hurt and uncomfortable. "This is why I won't let you touch my vehicle too often. You roam around in the engine bay like a ferret on crack."

"How is that little weasel of yours?" I said it through gritted teeth and my knuckles burned. Plus, I don't like seeing Donny get worked up over my stupid anger issues. We're older now, and I like to think I have a better handle on my anger.

"I taught him how to roll yesterday!" Don lightened up but had to point down into the bay. "Don't connect that wire there, Raph."

"Let me do this and you talk about your carpet shark."

I played with little Flourine and he bit the ever-loving snot out of me the first few times, but Don told me to squeeze the ferret's nose while he was biting me, and sure enough he stopped biting when he, you know, couldn't breathe and all. Don flicked him on the nose, and all I could hear was a hiss. Did Don get a ferret or a snake?

"I forgot to wear my clothes the other morning, Raph. Yeah, look at you. Grinning under all that grease."

Oh, Donny. He's such a genius but he'll forget to put on his undies. We gotta wear clothes walking around in public. We got citations on the first day.

Someone cleared their throat outside the bay, and looking around the hood who did I see but ol' Fearless Leader himself, dressed in a suit that could you bury him in three folds over. I wish I could sell those suckas on Ebay.

"Howdy, Leo. Come on in. The coffee's lukewarm," I croaked and had to slap Don's hand out of the way. He's bothersome around this job.

"I would but rules are rules. If I get hurt, there could be serious trouble for this company." The smacktalker, see? Leo's lips curved and I didn't even have to look at him.

I dusted off my hands and overlooked the progress; Don was trying to re-wiggle a wire and he almost got the hood closed on him. "Then stand outside and talk to yourself. I'm going on break."

As I was walking to the break room, Leo kicked up his step and walked around the building and through the front door. I saw him wave at Gary before I went to the bathroom.

We have this thing where we talk to each other through closed doors.

"Leo, why are you wearing your suit? Isn't your office closed on Saturday?" quipped Don.

"This suit is comfortable. I like them and I like appearing professional."

I groaned on the pot. Man, I shouldn't have had that chili last night.

"How is Gentry and the kids, Daddy?" Don snickered and I heard the coffee pot clatter.

Leo groaned, almost as loud as me. I guess that means the kids and SuperEgg were okay. Leo changed the subject and I would have too. "Honestly, I needed a break from the chaos. Seeing my brothers gives me a peace of mind."

"Yeah, and what do you want?" I wasn't thrilled to hear him being all nice.

"I want us to go out to dinner one night. Doesn't have to be tonight, of course, but can we plan? I miss you guys."

"No, you miss being a butt to us and bragging about your job." Don sipped his coffee and made a funny sound after tasting it.

"I promise not to brag about my job. I promise, promise." I could just see Leo crossing his heart and hoping to die, all those dramatics.

Don sighed and knocked on my door, just as I finished the last groan. "Raph, it's about time we had a family dinner together. Will you join?"

I flushed the commode. "As long as we don't have chili."

* * *

The pickup's owner was a total douchebag and I hurried through that job like a whore in Sunday church. I don't like douchebag customers, and while I won't half-ass a job, I won't give it my all either. Leo said that was the same thing, but he can go change a diaper and pet on his wussified dog.

Gary poked his head in and sang in soprano, "Miss Turtle is here."

Something else must be wrong with that lemon of hers, I pondered, and when I stepped into the store, little Miss Turtle was dressed to the nines. Even Gary and some random customer was checking her out.

"Hi." I gave her puppy dog eyes, but when I do it, I've been told I look like a gremlin.

She handed me a dvd case. "You wanted to borrow this movie, remember? Shrek X: It Never Ends?"

"Yeah! Thanks." I suddenly realized what she meant and then shot a dirty look at Gary, who couldn't even ring up a customer because he was checking out her toosh.

And then I saw why he couldn't do his job when she turned and walked away. Gary whistled and she wasn't even out the door yet. This is why he never gets a date. And because of that hideous mustache.

* * *

Casey called me at the house that night, and Mrs. Morrison screamed into the phone. I just heard this barking voice through the wall and I grumbled.

"Jesus Christ! That lady needs to be banned from the damn phone!" Casey bickered when I got on the headset.

"You stupid oaf, why don't you call my cell phone?"

"I forgot the number and I lost my phone when I dropped it in the bathtub."

"Bathtub? I thought you took a shower?" Not like I kept up with that information about my best man, you see, but Casey has a pattern these days.

"I wanted to try a bubble bath and see what the fuss was all about."

I saw Miss Turtle's dvd on my chair and looked it over. "Casey, what the hell do you want?"

He babbled something about a big sale at his lingerie store, some riots among snobby shoppers, and how he was hit on the head with a mannequin. I didn't pay too much attention because when I opened the dvd case, I found a name and a phone number.

"You ain't even listenin', are ya, man?" Casey whined and I heard April fuss in the background. I miss her, claws and all.

"No because I just scored big. Gotta watch Shrek Ten and make a phone call. Put some ice on your head, buddy."

I'm going to spare all of the nit picky details about my phone call to Miss Turtle and our first date. You ain't gotta know everything about me.

Miss Turtle stopped by the shop to pick up the dvd and we only flirted after that. She was a bit older and had a daughter, and I was busy with both of my jobs. I told her to keep me in her date book. We text every so often, usually about chain forwards that involve sexual innuendo. She's so cute and sassy.

Willy Lump Lump and Vampy paid a visit one Sunday night, and I was in a hurry to get home and order wrasslin' on Pay Per View. Mrs. M was going to let me use the big screen tv in the living room and I had all of my snacks and beer ready. Ol' Mikey was going to visit me, too. I was pretty damn stoked about having my sibling there, watching men beat the crap out of each other, and Mrs. M's commentaries are always hilarious. Yeah, she watches with us. Not like she ain't got anything else to do.

Vampy seemed a bit pissy and stomped up to me, on his cell phone of course. "Cassandra, hold on. I need to deal with something here."

I didn't know if I should tremble in my workboots or feel bad that I wasn't going to tremble in my workboots.

"Listen. You stole my woman. The woman who smelled like candy corn."

Candy corn? My look must have been one contorted mess because he huffed and stomped his foot.

"The turtle lady."

"Uh, what?"

"You're off my facebook, pal. And I'll haunt you in your dreams."

He got back on the phone and told Cassandra to dry clean his "Scare the Shit Out of People" suit and he was off in a hitch.

Gary laughed and tripped over a stack of oily parts behind the counter and then cursed at me for leaving them there. My only thought was: how in the world did he find out about me and Miss Turtle? Not like it mattered. He can haunt my dreams, but I betcha my dreams would haunt him first.

The next weirdo of the night was Willy Lump Lump. He drunkenly stumbled up to the counter and told me that I was filth, a failure, and apparently deaf because I didn't listen to him when he told me his third ex-wife was a crazy tramp.

"And what does this have to do with me, Willy?" I asked and chewed on a beef jerky.

"You slept with my wife!" he declared, pointing that rusty finger at me. There were two other customers in the store and I bet you could hear a pin drop in that place.

I had to correct him before I got mobbed. "Your ex-wife, Willy."

"She's a crazy whore."

"She's actually pretty good in bed."

"I saw your text messages on her phone, you filthy lizard!" he spewed and asked Gary for another pint.

"Willy, I didn't know she was your ex." I was really trying hard not to laugh like a jackass.

He whipped his arms in the air and screamed, "I told you that she was like you!"

"Like me what, Willy? A hot head? Into cars? Golden eyes?"

"A turtle, you dipstick!"

Now, when he said "DIPSTICK", it sounded like the most ferocious thing he could think of in his stupor. Gary was under the counter, holding his laughter, and I wasn't far from it.

"Oh, man, Willy, I'm sorry, man. She ain't yours anymore, Bro."

"You got my sloppy seconds, chump!"

"Consider me envious of ya, Lump."

Willy paraded around the store, calling me all kinds of names and vowing to never talk to me again. That lasted about five minutes before he was trailing behind me in the shop and talking about how his dog leaked on a kitchen fire and snuff it out. I let him yak until I clocked out, waved goodbye, and headed back home to chill with my Bro.

All in a day's work and a crappy paycheck.

* * *

_Find the other brothers' stories by Connie Nervegas (Leo), LilNinjaWolf (Raph's day job), and BlowmyHeartUp (Donny) at their respective profiles._


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